This is going to be quite freeform, rambling, vague, and probably off-topic.
Bear with me.
A few days back I stumbled on a photograph, while browsing on Pinterest – you know I use Pinterest a lot when looking for visual references.
Now, the picture in question, an old portrait of a popular alternative model (I hope that’s the right definition), struck me as quite interesting, and started a whole train of thoughts.
It would make for an excellent writing prompt, I’m quite certain, but there was something more.

So, here’s the image.
Take a look, then I’ll go on with my story…

 

Now what I absolutely love about this picture is this lady’s expression.
Oh, she’s Sabina Kelley, and they tell me she’s quite popular – and I can obviously see she might as well be.
But despite the colorful tattoos, the obvious physical charms, her evident beauty, the impeccably designed make-up and the composition of the picture… well, sue me, I just love her laughing, naughty (should I say “impish”?) expression.

The beautiful face of a woman having fun.
Wonderful.

Now this led me to consider how much I love – both in real life and in fiction – those women that can laugh, and will, without too much worry for discretion, elegance or propriety.
Oh, smiles are ok, and I can certainly appreciate the beauty of a serious face.
Pouty lips are fun on pinups but…
No, give me a good, hearty laugh any day.

And it is not a matter of age, race, make-up, dress or whatever.
It’s the laugh that makes women beautiful.
Or more beautiful.

Despite the old adage, “laughter abounds on the lips of the foolish”, to me laughter is a clear sign of intelligence.
The ability to appreciate a ridiculous situation, a joke, a paradox.
A taste for flirting.
The freedom from formality.

Which might – just might – go beyond my sympathy for unconventional women, and connect with my general preference for optimistic endings and a cheerful outlook.
For a modicum of flippancy, if you will.
Oh, granted, life can hit you pretty hard, and crying is a right that comes with the scars.
But I prefer the lighter side.

In the end, I really think I’m a comedy guy at heart.
And comediennes are infinitely fascinating to me.
And their scarcity only increases the charm.

I warned you this would be vague and rambling.
And probably meaningless.

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